


Collection of Good Omens One Shots

by Fuloki



Category: Good Omens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:50:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuloki/pseuds/Fuloki
Summary: Various short little fics for good omens





	Collection of Good Omens One Shots

“Nanny!” Warlock cried out as he stood outside her door in the hall, tears streaming down his face, and holding his crude satan like doll she made for him.

Ashtoreth knew what had happened. It was the very reason she herself was siting in bed knitting away while watching what ever violent and bloody thing was on. Warlock like herself and like so many children often were capable of had sensed the shift in the universe. Typically these shifts were small and as such did nothing much in terms of affecting ones sleep, other than restlessness. This one was large and Ashtoreth was almost asleep when she felt the nightmares coming. Warlock hadn’t been so lucky.

“Come here dearie.” She said softly patting the bed next to her, “Come tell me about it.”

The seven year-old padded over to the bed and clambered up onto the bed. Warlock then climbed under the covers and lay on Ashtoreth’s chest. Ashtoreth turned the TV down and wrapped her arm around the small child.

“He ..: he.” Warlock attempted to say something but couldn’t through his sobs.

“Ssssssshhhh, dearie.” Warlock tried to stifle a giggle at his Nannies funny way of saying shhh. “Take your time.”

“He... the weird frog guy... he...” Warlock said getting distracted by the crime drama on the TV.

“What did that mean frog guy do?” Ashtoreth asked knowing full well who the kid was talking about. That unfortunately was one of the downsides of watching the antichrist, demons slipped into his nightmares far more often than other children. Hastur also had a tendency to enjoy scaring little children, much more than she herself ever did.

“He took me Mom and dad.... and he.... he made us go to the desert... and he bit his finger.....” Warlock frowned clearly still disturbed by his dream “and black stuff came out... it ran towards us... and the the maggots ate us.”

Ashtoreth frowned for a second “Well you tell that old toad Hastur that he smells like poo the next time you see him.”

“But he’s scary nanny.”

“I know dearie.” Ashtoreth smiled warmly “he used to be a poison dart frog, brightest one I had ever seen. He’s embarrassed by that, use it to your advantage next time you see him too.”

“Okay Nanny.” Warlock sighed “Can I sleep with you?”

“Yes dear.” Ashtoreth said in response. There was something about the dream the boy had described but she decided not to dwell on it. She doubted it was a prophetic dream, after all he was the Antichrist.

“Nanny.” Warlock asked looking up at her. She made a noise that indicated to the small child to go on. “Do you have nightmares?”

She smiled gently “Of course dear.”

“What are they about?”

Ashtoreth grimaced she knew that the child would ask that. “Oh nothing much. Falling Angels mostly.”

“How is that scary?”

Ashtoreth thought for a moment trying to put her dreams into less of an ineffable mess for the 7 year old. “It’s like I am them and they are me. I feel like I’m falling and my body is burning. But the feelings the emotions are the worst, they stab and burn more than the falling ever could.” She remembered her fall all too well. It was the only nightmare she got, over and over and over again. For 6 thousand years, the pain and sting of betrayal by Gabriel and the others. Part of her damnation more than anything else, the memories and reminders. Nothing less, certainty not for the being that used to be the Archangel Raphael.

“Oh is it normal for that to happen when people get older?” Warlock asked.

He sounded just like she had when she was young, “No dearie, I have a rare sleep disorder that you certainly do not have.” She said confidently tickling him underneath his arms until eliciting a giggle from the child. “Would you like me to sing to you.”

“No Nanny.” Warlock said focused more on the T.V. now. 

It was true she did have a sleep disorder, one called being a demon. She had wondered since the beginning if she should tell Warlock. But after seeing how wacky his life was already decided against delivering the news of Angels demons or otherwise to the Antichrist.

Ashtoreth sat and thought about before, being off in the starts creating. Creating nebulas stars planets that could foster life. She created to please, but that wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to know everything. God well she had claimed knowledge was power. Many other angels saw Ashtoreth’s actions as part of an attempt to usurp God. In reality the thought had never crossed her mind. She wanted to understand the universe. It seemed like all the other angels understood and it hurt to feel like she knew nothing compared to everyone else.

A small snore alerted her to the fact that Warlock had fallen asleep. She knew that he felt the same way sometimes. To him everyone seemed to understand the universe, and he didn’t. He asked questions and by most adults he was shrugged off like a pesky fly. Ashtoreth and Francis were the only two who took the time to answer his questions. 

Ashtoreth loved the boy like he was her child and she knew he sensed how much love she had for him. There was just something to Ashtoreth about having a small frail creature be dependent on you. One that isn’t constantly on guard and wary of another. It was warm and felt nice to not only be appreciated but needed.

Even before the fall she never had felt needed. She felt like a number in the masses. And as a demon that feeling never went away. That’s why she had volunteered to be on earth, to feel even a slight bit special. Of course most other demons didn’t want the job in the first place.

Having Warlock lying asleep on her also made it feel like time was frozen. Just the two of them in this moment nothing else existed. Not before not in the future not now. In these moments it is just the two of them with nothing to ruin the bliss and euphoria of being alive. Ashtoreth knew the feelings was ineffable, other than one descriptor she used only in her head, ‘one of the best feelings in the world’. She knew that if anyone else knew especially Francis, that she cared with her whole heart and then some, for this fragile half human they would assume that she was soft. And being soft was not a bad thing, that’s why her alter ego in that moment, Crowley had fallen in love with Francis’ alter ego Aziraphale. She hoped that her being soft was just enough to stop Armageddon from becoming reality.

Francis the next morning walked into the room hoping to prune and water the beautiful fern in the Nannies room. He expected Ashtoreth to be lacing up her boots make a snide remark and then march out to go wake up young Warlock and get him ready. He instead found the two beings still sleeping with Ashtoreth clutching both arms around the boy who was lying on her chest. Francis smiled and walked out assuming they had a rough night.


End file.
